


the one who would hang the stars

by kiyoooooooomi (hoetaku97)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Ambiguous/Open Ending, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoetaku97/pseuds/kiyoooooooomi
Summary: Tonight is just the same as any other on the surface, the breeze gently rustling his hair, the moonlight casting long shadows across the tall trees that surround him, but the air is charged. The world seems to stand completely still, as if awaiting the presence of an unannounced guest. It brings goosebumps to his skin and makes his hair stand on end, anticipation pooling in his stomach. There is another presence materializing somewhere nearby, reality bending and changing to conform around this new visitor.OrNyx!Sakusa and Mortal!Atsumu
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	the one who would hang the stars

Kiyoomi has watched years turn to dust, slipping through his fingers just as easily, nothing so tangible he could ever hold. Time has no meaning when you have eternity, seated among swirling galaxies and stars dying millions of miles away, just out of sight of the ones below. The ones below, who would admire the night sky with childlike fascination, amazement filling their gaze as they admire the moon, the stars, and all her wonders, never truly seeing the larger picture.

Mortals, all the same, all admiring and awestruck.

All mortals, all the same, with the exception of one.

One mortal, who has gazed upon the night sky with all the tenderness and reverence of a lover every night religiously for the past 21 years, and would most likely continue to for countless years to come.

Since he was old enough to stand and walk, one mortal has come out every night to stare at the sky, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. Kiyoomi watches him intently, as he always has, the way he comes to the grassy clearing hidden amongst the trees behind his house as though attending a place of worship. The man seems to Kiyoomi closer to the sun, warm and bright and bathed in gold. He has a natural glow about him that makes it impossible to tear your eyes away, a heat to his gaze that is almost enough to make Kiyoomi blush from his perch just behind the clouds. 

Some nights, Kiyoomi could swear the man below is staring right at him, parting the sky with his two hands to see straight into his heart.

Tonight is no different, not on the surface. The man enters the clearing as usual sometime around midnight, and takes his seat in the tall grass. He’s alone, as he always is during these times. Kiyoomi knows he is always alone because every night, for 21 years, he has watched him this way, waiting to see the night he doesn’t come.

And yet, he always comes.

The man always comes with stars in his eyes that rival those Kiyoomi forms, all the glow and shimmer no match for the warm amber simmering there.

Kiyoomi can’t resist the temptation anymore, curiosity overwhelming him as he watches the man. He knows he shouldn’t, knows getting involved in the affairs of mortals is tricky, but he has an inexplicable urge to know  _ why _ .

Kiyoomi is facing the point of no return, knowing there’s no way back once he crosses this line.

He resolves to step down from the sky.

**___________________________________**

Atsumu has always loved the sky at night, the oppressive darkness and all the light seeping through the cracks. There’s something calming about the moon and the stars returning every night, always the same, always lovely. It has been a constant presence in his life for as far back as he can remember, a companion of sorts. His brother Osamu has always thought the night cold and lonely, but Atsumu disagrees. He has never felt alone while bathed in moonlight in the quiet of the clearing. 

The night and the peace it brings have been with him at every stage of his life, a mystery and something known only to Atsumu all at once. It feels like something that belongs only to him in these stolen moments.

It’s selfish to feel you have a monopoly over a sky that stretches the whole world over, but Atsumu himself is selfish.

No one loves the night as much as Atsumu, of that he is sure.

No one else could appreciate it as he does, the world shrouded in shadow, sending those below to rest, while the sky itself remains alone and unwavering until morning.

Atsumu views the night as a person in its own right, an entity not complete unlike himself with thoughts, feelings, and autonomy. It is shelter and safety and an unassuming warmth that surrounds him each night, wrapping him up and holding him close.

Tonight is just the same as any other on the surface, the breeze gently rustling his hair, the moonlight casting long shadows across the tall trees that surround him, but the air is charged. The world seems to stand completely still, as if awaiting the presence of an unannounced guest. It brings goosebumps to his skin and makes his hair stand on end, anticipation pooling in his stomach. There is another presence materializing somewhere nearby, reality bending and changing to conform around this new visitor. Atsumu can feel it in the air, suddenly thick and heavy to the point of being suffocating. He is no longer alone, he knows. Something  _ other _ that threatens to bring the earth to its knees, someone that could if they wanted to, lurks in the darkness just beyond.

The world is waiting.

Atsumu waits with it, tension coiling in his muscles, staring unblinking into the night.

The shadows around him seem to shift and morph, as if they’re winding themselves around some unforeseen figure.

He looks up again to face the sky, eyes to the moon.

“It’s late, you know.” 

A voice speaks from somewhere behind him, somewhere in the shadows. Atsumu jolts slightly at the sound, the seemingly impenetrable silence of the night shattered. The voice is deep and as smooth as fine silk. Atsumu would kill to hear it again.

“Yeah, it is,” Atsumu allows, “but I don’t see how my sleep schedule is any of yer business.”

“You’re here every night.”

“No shit, but how would you know that? Ya been followin’ me or somethin’?”

“You could consider me an… interested party.” The voice draws out the last two words.

“What’s so interestin’ about me comin’ to the middle of the woods every night?”

The figure emerges from the woods somewhere to his left, stepping out from the shadows. He seems to glow, the same light that fills the sky seeping from his pores. He has hair as dark as the void, sucking in all the light around it, giving him a look that can best be described as the stars and the sky they rest upon. He is clothed in dark purple robes that trail behind him as he walks, moving slowly closer to observe Atsumu with detached interest in his eyes, which are the same shade of overwhelming blackness as the dark curls framing his face. His face gives nothing away, his mouth set into a hard line. On his head, just above two dark moles marking his forehead, a golden laurel wreath matching the gold cuffs that adorn his wrists. He’s otherworldly in his beauty, and Atsumu finds himself dumbstruck by the sight of him. He is the embodiment of light and shadow and something that could not be born of earth.

“Why?” 

“Why what?” Atsumu finally finds his voice to speak.

“You’re here every night. Why do you come?” The figure tilts his head to the side curiously, brows furrowing together.

“If you’ll come sit, I’ll be happy to tell ya.”

The man (if he could even be called that) begrudgingly obliges, moving to take a seat beside Atsumu in the center of the clearing.

“Who are you?” Atsumu hazards a gaze to his right, only to find the dark-haired man eyeing him as if he were a test subject under observation.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, that’s a new one. What kinda answer is that?”

“An honest one.” The man shrugs.

The man tilts his head back to face the sky, avoiding looking at Atsumu altogether. His silhouette is sharp and striking, the light from the full moon highlighting the curves and angles of his lovely face. Something about him reminds Atsumu of the night, his presence a dark haze with the subtlest of glows illuminating the shadows.

“Well, what can I call ya?”

The man thinks for a moment before answering. “Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi. It feels oddly fitting.

“Kiyoomi. Very pretty, but kinda a mouthful, I think.” Kiyoomi visibly bristles at Atsumu’s blatant attempt at flirting. 

“Mind if I call ya Omi-kun?”

“Yes, I mind very much.”

“Perfect, Omi-kun it is then.” Atsumu deliberately needles the man, trying to get some sort of rise out of him, and fails miserably. Kiyoomi only looks mildly perturbed. “Not that you asked, but my name is Atsumu.”

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi repeats softly, staring down at his bare feet.

“Yer not from around here, are ya?”

“You could say that.”

“But yer here with me now.”

“I am.”

Neither of these speak, instead enjoying the quiet sounds of the night pouring in from all sides. Kiyoomi finally turns his gaze back on Atsumu, his eyes trailing from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He lets his eyes linger for longer than necessary, drinking in the sight of Atsumu as if for the first and last time. Atsumu finds himself clinging to the fleeting hope that it will not be the last time. He can’t describe why exactly, but Kiyoomi feels like a welcome and comforting presence. It feels silly to even think it, but Atsumu feels as though he has known him for years.

“You promised to answer my questions if I came to sit.”

“Right, right, I’m gettin’ there. Haven’t ya ever heard that patience is a virtue, Omi-kun?”

“You don’t seem particularly virtuous to me.”

“Ouch, okay, I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t just say that.”

“If it means you finally spare me your unbearable stalling, by all means.”

“You wanna know why I come out here every night, right?”

Kiyoomi offers a curt nod in response.

“Because I love the night. Do I need any more reason than that?”

“Yes. Why do you love it? You have to love something very much to come back night after night as you do.” Kiyoomi stares straight ahead into the woods beyond as he speaks. “The night has always been there, and  _ will _ always be there. It is unchanging, always the same. Why do you care for it so much?”

Atsumu shakes his head. “You’re wrong.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“The sky… it’s subtle differences, but I’ve never seen the same sky twice. It’s almost as if it has feelings, the way the stars shine brighter some nights than others, the way the clouds sometimes hide it all, like it doesn’t want to be seen. Sometimes night falls and the darkness is damn near oppressive, like it’s closing in, but I’ve never been scared the way my twin brother is.” Atsumu chuckles softly to himself, gently shaking his head. “Samu is afraid of the dark, says you can’t ever see what’s comin’. I don’t think that’s scary, though. It forces me to focus on what my eyes can see, the things right in front of me. The stars are so beautiful and shine so brightly, and the darkness is so complete and peaceful. It’s unlike anything else.” Atsumu sighs before turning from the sky back to Kiyoomi. “This is gonna sound weird, but the sky has always been there for me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The moon and the stars come every night and are always here waiting for me. It feels almost like having a silent companion, always waiting with open arms and no expectations. I’ve never felt alone lookin’ at the sky. Not to mention how beautiful it is.”

If Atsumu isn’t mistaken, a light shade of pink is dusted across the tops of Kiyoomi’s cheeks and ears.

“How beautiful is it, then?” Kiyoomi’s voice is just above a whisper.

“More beautiful than anything. The light of the stars against the darkness of the sky never fails to amaze me.” Atsumu pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “Lookin’ at the sky this way, I feel like it’s the closest I could ever be to heaven. And I don’t think anyone loves it as much as I do. I feel like, in a way, it’s mine. No one loves the night as much as me, and I would give anything to hold it in my hands.”

Kiyoomi moves imperceptibly closer, black eyes burning with something Atsumu can’t name as he stares him down. “What if you could? What then?”

“If I could hold the night… I think I’d appreciate it for all that it’s worth, cherish it like I know only I can do.” Atsumu huffs a short laugh. “You ask these weird questions like my answers personally affect you.” 

“They do.”

Atsumu can barely contain his amusement. “How so?”

Kiyoomi moves even closer, a hair’s breadth away. He leans in and Atsumu can feel his warm breath against his lips. Atsumu doesn’t dare move, doesn’t even breathe.

“I am Nyx, Night Incarnate,” Kiyoomi whispers against his mouth as presses his own against it, holding him in a kiss. Kiyoomi brings his left hand up to cup Atsumu’s cheek, pulling him even closer. His lips are soft and warm and Atsumu can feel stars and galaxies forming and exploding within his chest. He tastes of starlight and it’s everything Atsumu had never dared to imagine. The night, which he loves so deeply, as he has for so long, is returning his affections, and it’s almost too much to bear. This is a touch not meant to be felt by mortals, not meant for Atsumu, and it makes him even more hungry for it. He pulls Kiyoomi on top of him, never breaking the kiss. 

They kiss for what could be hours or minutes. Time loses all meaning in the embrace of the embodiment of the night in all his splendor, kissing him until his lips are swollen and raw. His skin is so soft and cool it chills Atsumu to the bone. It’s addicting. It’s everything and somehow still not enough, leaving Atsumu wanting more, more, more.

When Kiyoomi pulls away from him, leaving his chest heaving and pulling a needy sound from the back of his throat, Atsumu feels the loss as though it were one of his own limbs being torn from him.

“I need to leave.” Kiyoomi rises to his feet and turns to go.

Atsumu rises up on his elbows to look at him. “Promise me I’ll see you again,” Atsumu breathes out, so fast and desperate it sounds like one word.

Kiyoomi turns back to face him. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Atsumu gets to feet and jogs up to him, gripping the top of his arm. Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at the contact, but says nothing. “Ya have to, I can’t let you go if ya don’t.”

“As if you could stop me.”

“You have a point, but I’ll make it hard as hell for ya. I can be a real pain in the ass when I need to be.”

Kiyoomi considers him for a moment, studies his face and the determined set of his jaw. He opens his mouth to speak, then abruptly closes it again. “I promise,” he finally spits out, as if the words taste sour on their way out.

“I will see ya soon then, Nyx.”

He pulls his arm free, turning on his heel. “Kiyoomi is fine.”

And just as quickly as he came, he dissolves back into the shadows.

**_____________________________________**

Kiyoomi is a weaver of stars, spinning constellations across the night sky. Now, he finds his hands work with newfound purpose like a man possessed, desperately attempting to convey the depths of his affection to the mortal waiting below each night. Atsumu comes every night, just as before, only now each time he arrives, he blows a kiss to the night sky. If Kiyoomi listens carefully, he swears he can almost hear Atsumu whisper a soft greeting meant for him alone, the man who would be the night and all her darkness. If Kiyoomi is the one who would hang the stars, Atsumu is the one who would dare to touch the sky, to hold it in both hands and caress it as though it was the most precious thing in the world, something to be protected and cherished.

_ A promise is a promise, _ a voice in the back of his mind whispers.

Kiyoomi smiles to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> go check out cam’s beautiful art for the fic here 
> 
> https://twitter.com/manyangrygeese/status/1329890511784591364?s=21


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